The Doctor/Romana LJ Community

a (fanmade) Romana II action figure

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 05:11:08 GMT

We all know that Character Options is releasing new!Who and classic!Who toys. I hope that a Romana figure will be made someday. Imagine how cool a "Destiny of the Daleks" Romana would look like. ^.^

EDIT: Ooops. Had no idea I gave the impression that I made the Romana figure. No,no. XD
The person who maintains http://www.talesfromthetardis.co.uk made it. Not sure if they take orders for the customized toys.

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 16:01:58 GMT

Title: Six Words
Author: Me, rabbitfics
Rating: 15 at most, for extremely mild cussin' and unresolved tiemlust
Pairing: Various Doctor/Romana
Disclaimer: Property of the BBC. I'm just playing with them at work.
Author's Note: This fic is the result of watching The Christmas Invasion too many times in a row, and also of my inner eleven-year-old getting the giggles over Paul McGann's plaintive, "Please, Romana? Please, please, please, please, please?" in the Shada webcast. I am a horrible person. Also, I've now satisfied myself as to why Ten has issues with the L-word.

x-posted to rabbitfics

Once, she was tall and statuesque and naïve enough to think it was a good idea to tromp around the English countryside in high heels. Later, she was tiny and blonde – and better than him at almost everything, a characteristic she took great pleasure in pointing out to him.

Now she is as beautiful and mesmerizing as a 1920's It Girl from Earth, but hard as nails. She eyes his frock coat and long hair with obvious disdain as he pleads with her.

"Please, Romana? Please, please, please? You obviously need a holiday. I can't remember when I've seen you looking so exhausted."

She asks him exactly what he means by that remark, throwing in several colorful Gallifreyan words that, translated roughly into English, might become "bloody buggering hell."

"Nothing!" he assures her. "My dear Lady President." The smile that so charmed her the last time they met falls flat now. He steps closer, leans across her desk, and murmurs, "You can't have forgotten what a delightful time we had the last time you let me steal you away from your Presidential duties." He certainly hasn't forgotten. In his mind's eye he can still see her as she was then, flushed and bright-eyed as she pinned him, laughing, to the ground on the riverbank. They could have been two silly university students. He wants that again.

"I'm a new woman, Doctor, in more ways than one," she says bitterly. "You don't know what we've been going through here at home while you've been larking about with that – "

"Romana!" Faintly, in his mind, he can hear what the Lady President is thinking of calling Charley, and it is not ladylike at all. But then the smile creeps back across his face. "Are you jealous? Oh, say you're jealous."

"I don't have time for this anymore," she informs him coldly. "There may be a war on soon, Doctor."

"But that's why I want you to come with me! Just once more, if that's all we have time for." His smile turns melancholy. "Of all the people in the universe, who would have thought that you and I would run out of time? But for now, I could have you back five minutes ago. You know that." He moves around the desk and puts his hands on her shoulders. "We could go anyplace, anytime you want, and I could still get you back to this room in time for your next interminable Council meeting. I still love you," he adds, expecting this simple truth to carry the day.

Instead, she slaps him. Hard. "How dare you?" she asks, her voice trembling. "How dare you speak to me of love at a time like this? How dare you use a word so vast to describe the sentimental cravings of your own body, when my people are in danger?"

My people. Not our people. That hurts. But not enough to make him change his mind.

"Romana, I'm not just thinking about – "

"Shut up! Shut up. Get out of my sight." She crumples into her chair, holding her head in her hands. "I said, Go!" she shouts after a moment without looking up at him.

As the Doctor is leaving, the guard outside the door puts a hand on his arm to detain him for a moment. "Don't you think she looks tired?" the guard asks in a confiding voice, soft with false concern.

The Doctor glares at him wordlessly. The guard backs away, clearly realizing that he’s chosen the wrong person to come to with his insinuations, but the Doctor makes a mental note to keep his eye on this fellow.

After all, six words like that could topple an empire.

3 drabbles: Romana's First Chirstmas (series)

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 20:19:56 GMT

Inspired by my drabble, Mistletoe (which I think I posted here), I started writing a mini series of drabbles/very short fics about the Doctor teaching Romana about Christmas. I've written two more parts, so far, but I plan on writing more. I think this is the order I want them to be in, but this might change! (I've included Mistletoe because it is the first part of the series...but I might edit it - I don't know!) I'd really appriciate some feedback.

Title: Romana's First Christmas
Author: sneakyangel
Rating: All ages
Characters: Romana II, Fourth Doctor, K9
Summary: Romana might have graduated with a triple first, but her education did not include the Doctor's favourite Earth holiday.

Mistetoe
“Doctor, what are you doing?” Romana had just entered the console room to find the Doctor enthusiastically decorating a pine tree.
“Its Christmas, Romana! Time to celebrate!”
“I assume this is another Earth tradition, you are rather fond of those”, Romana paused, “Doctor, why are you grinning like that?”
“You are standing under the mistletoe” he replied with a wicked glint in his eyes. Romana looked up and noticed the green leaves and white berries, and asked “what is the significance of that?”
“This is my favourite tradition”. He pulled Romana into a gentle and tender kiss.
“I like Christmas!” Romana smiled.

Snowball Fight
“Doctor!” Romana shouted, “We’ve landed.”
“Brilliant!” The Doctor entered the console room. “Put these on Romana, it’ll be cold outside.” He handed Romana a thick winter coat, a long scarf and a white bobble hat. Romana pulled on the clothes and followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS. Suddenly, Romana’s face was very cold, wet and her vision became impaired.
The Doctor laughed, “Got you Romana!”
Romana wiped her face and said “What was the purpose of that, Doctor? Another Earth tradition?”
“Oh course! Snowball fights are part of Christmas.”
Romana smiled and scooped up some snow at her feet. “Well, as I am learning about Christmas…” She trailed off and threw the snow ball at the Doctor.
“Oi!” he laughed and chased a giggling Romana with more snow balls.

Christmas Dinner
Romana was lying on her bed, reading a book about Christmas that she had found in the TARDIS library. Since the Doctor was so fond of this Earth tradition, she thought she might as well learn as much about it as she could. She put down the book and smelt the strange aroma that was coming from outside of her room. She followed her nose to the TARDIS kitchen. She had rarely been in there since the Doctor and she usually ate wherever they landed. The strangest sight met her eyes. The Doctor was carving what appeared to be a roast bird, that she assumed was turkey and K9 was stirring a brown liquid with his nose. Romana couldn’t help but laugh.
The Doctor looked up in surprise, “Romana! What are you doing here? This was meant to be a surprise. Your first Christmas Dinner.”
“Oh Doctor, it is a surprise. It smells wonderful.”
“Home made Christmas dinner with all the trimmings,” The Doctor beamed, proudly, “Happy Christmas Romana.”
Romana threw her arms around the Doctor and said, “Thank you Doctor. Happy Christmas and happy Christmas K9.”
“Happy Christmas Mistress, Happy Christmas Master.”

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 22:32:27 GMT

Hi everyone! I've been lurking for a while, but now I actually have something to contribute. I wrote a silly ficlet for 31_days: Picnic, rated G, 410 words.

The prompt was It's me and you and our insanity. If that's not Doctor/Romana I don't know what is.

Icons of COMPLETE SRSNESS

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 20:18:49 GMT

6 variations on Romana-related text
6 Martha/Tom wedding manips

( All icons can be found here )

Fic: Memoria Misericordiam

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 03:01:09 GMT

Title: Memoria Misericordiam

Characters: Proper Ten, Davros, DoctorDonna, Romana
Summary: The Doctor's thoughts on what just went down.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Spoilery as all get-out.
Notes: It was either this or a follow-up on the previous madness: Bad Wolf versus Giant Naked Rei.

( Memoria Misericordiam )

Triple-Drabble: "Apologies"

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 21:09:54 GMT

Title: Apologies
Author: missperkigoth
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Romana, vague references to others
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for DW 04X13, "Journey's End"
Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Doctor Who, Auntie Beeb does.
A/N: Thanks to lived_in_hope for the quick beta!

I'm so sorry.

he fleeeeeewwww into the wild and fire

Tue, 01 Jul 2008 19:21:51 GMT

Compulsively (and hurriedly) created icons after reading about a Very Serious Theory.


1	2	3

4	5	6

7	8	9

No need to credit. In fact, don't credit. Hoha!

Four/Romana II drabbles

Sun, 29 Jun 2008 19:04:03 GMT

Recently, I have started writing drabbles. I tried writing fics a couple of years ago and failed miserably, so I turned to graphic making. For some reason, recently I had the inspiration and urge to write drabbles. I don't think these are too bad for first attempts, but I would appriciate any feedback.

Title: Mistletoe
Author: sneakyangel
Rating: All ages
Characters: Four/Romana II
Spoilers: None
Notes: Based on the prompt Mistletoe.

“Doctor, what are you doing?” Romana had just entered the console room to find the Doctor enthusiastically decorating a pine tree.
“Its Christmas, Romana! Time to celebrate!”
“I assume this is another Earth tradition, you are rather fond of those”, Romana paused, “Doctor, why are you grinning like that?”
“You are standing under the mistletoe” he replied with a wicked glint in his eyes. Romana looked up and noticed the green leaves and white berries, and asked “what is the significance of that?”
“This is my favourite tradition”. He pulled Romana into a gentle and tender kiss.
“I like Christmas!” Romana smiled.

Title: Air, Fire, Earth, Water
Author: sneakyangel
Rating: All ages
Characters: Four/Romana II
Spoilers: None
Notes: Set during Romana's regeneration, from the prompt Water, Earth, Wind and Fire.
Based on the traditional chant:
“Air my breath and fire my spirit. Earth my body, water my blood”.

Air
Romana took a deep breath. She felt the air fill her lungs for the first time in this new body. The air was sweet and slightly scented. The Doctor was shouting something about landing, she wasn’t paying attention but she thought she had better make an appearance as she had finally settled on a body. Stepping into the console room, Romana gasped. She cursed herself when the Doctor noticed, and flushed bright red. Why did the Doctor suddenly take her breath away? The Doctor smiled his most toothiest of grins, which did not help, as Romana blushed a deeper shade of crimson.

Fire
It felt as if her face was on fire. She knew that regenerations could alter opinions even completely change personalities, but she never thought that she would feel differently about the Doctor. After all, she had graduated from the Academy with a triple first and he had scraped 51% on his second try. This did not make sense. Romana did not believe in such things, but if she did, she would have said that her spirit was dancing. She was extremely aware of her double heartbeat, which was beating much faster than usual. Romana told herself that is was just post-regenerative trauma.

Earth
Time seemed to stand still, which it invariably did in the TARDIS. Still grinning that toothy grin of his, Romana suddenly became aware of every part of her new body. Her arms fell limply at her side. She moved over to the Doctor, finding it extremely difficult to walk. She desperately hoped that this would not be a permanent part of this regeneration as it would put her at a great disadvantage when being chased by aliens. Standing next to the Doctor, Romana noticed that she was now significantly smaller than him. She could work this to her advantage.

Water
The Doctor was still smiling at her. Her blood felt like fire, pumping around her body. Even if this wasn’t post-regenerative trauma, she could use that as an excuse for the way her new body was behaving. She wanted nothing more than to have her wicked way with him. No one back on Gallifrey had to know. The Doctor winked at her.
Oh god! She thought, Time Lords are telepathic. He knows what I’m thinking,
No sooner had she thought this, than the Doctor embraced her in a huge hug and kissed her softly on the forehead.
“Lets not rush into this”, the Doctor said gently.

Title: Boating Weather
Author: sneakyangel
Rating: All ages
Characters: Four/Romana II
Spoilers: None
Notes: Set during Shada.

Romana closed her book, laid back and shut her eyes. She barely listened to a word the Doctor said. He was happy enough punting and she just wanted to enjoy the peace. No aliens, no threats, just her and the Doctor on the Cam. The sun was beating down and there was a slight breeze in the air. Perfect. After escaping the Nimon, Romana felt that she deserved a break. The Doctor had mentioned something about visiting an old friend, but she did not worry. He was always getting the time wrong, so there was no rush. For now, it was just her, the Doctor and the Cam.

FIC: Paradox Loop (One/Romana, NC-17)

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 10:11:42 GMT

Title: Paradox Loop
Summary: He's seen her from childhood, but he doesn't know her name.
Rated: NC-17
Notes: Er ... I wanted to see if I could integrate pr0ns into an actual fic, as opposed to tossing a few paragraphs up on the kinkmeme. Also, I think my Romana is even crazier than usual here, and that's saying something, even for me.

He was running, the first time he saw her.

His hearts were pounding, limbs flying as he fled his tutors and the Untempered Schism and the awful, endless nothingness behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure on a hillside, a woman with long, dark hair. She was watching him.

For a second, their eyes met. She smiled at him, the wind whipping her hair across her face. He thought she was about to laugh.

Then he stumbled and fell, and when he looked again, she was gone.

*

Koschei said it was an hallucination. After a while, he started to believe it, and the years passed, and he forgot about her all together.

Until he saw her again.

*

He was sixty years old. The universe, which had seemed impossibly vast and cold when he was a child had contracted, becoming a world of books, classes, deadlines. Boredom mingled with pressure, until he thought he might explode.

It was the middle of the night, and he was still in the library. Footsteps approached behind him -- Ushas, he thought -- but then he looked up, and realised.

"How odd," he said. "I was quite sure you were a figment of my imagination."

She smiled, sitting in the chair beside his.

"Maybe you've gone mad," she said. Her voice was low, her pronunciation precise. "When I was sixty, I thought it would be marvelous to go insane. Well, it would have broken the monotony, anyway."

He reached out and took her hand.

"See?" he said, "you're perfectly real."

She blinked, staring at their linked hands. "I'm sorry," she said, suddenly sad, "I'm too early -- I shouldn't have come -- this is too soon." She pulled away, standing up. "You'll see me again. Not soon. One day."

He felt as lost as a callow twenty-year-old. "I don't even know your name," he said.

She smiled. "I don't know yours, either." With one smooth motion, she leaned down and kissed him on the lips. For a second, he was too stunned to respond -- in the library -- people will see -- then her tongue flicked against his lips, and he relaxed and kissed her back.

Then she was gone, as quickly as she'd appeared.

*

At first he scanned the faces of everyone he saw, but she never appeared. Eventually, he stopped looking.

When she did appear again, it was another time, another planet, and they were alone.

Once, Gallifrey had possessed an empire. Now it had a couple of crumbling monuments on dead planets, and he had been given the task of testing the remaining structures for lingering traces of temporal radiation. He was two hundred and four years old, too young (some said) for this responsibility. Certainly, he was young enough to jump at the opportunity to leave Gallifrey -- to stand alone on an alien world -- leaving behind Koschei's endless politics and Ushas's science, and his own growing responsibilities--

It was peaceful here. He was the only living person on this planet, and the silence was magnificent.

It was broken by the sound of a TARDIS. He dropped his tools and straightened, but the newcomer wasn't one of his colleagues, or Koschei. It was a wheezy Type 40 TARDIS, improbably shaped like a blue box.

The door opened.

"I told you," she said, and there was a reckless gleam in her eyes, "didn't I tell you I'd see you again?"

But his attention was caught by something else: the Sash of Rassilon, thrown carelessly over her informal black gown.

"You're full of surprises," he said, "my Lady President."

*

"I shouldn't be here," she said. They were sitting on the grass, looking down at the waves pounding the shore of the distant beach. "It's entirely self-indulgent, but -- well, all I have is time."

For the first time, he noticed that her fingernails were cracked and broken, and her dress was worn, almost threadbare in places.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

Her smile held no joy. "You'll see."

She lay back, tilting her face up to the sunlight. Her hand slipped into his, where it felt quite natural.

"I'm getting married in a year," he said.

"Yes, I know."

"She's an Arcalian. Very clever -- rather traditional. I like her."

"Good."

"I thought -- or hoped -- that I'd know her when I saw her. That she'd be you."

She opened her eyes. "Were you disappointed?" she asked.

"It was irrational."

"That never stopped you -- I mean," she paused. "Take your times and chances as they come," she said at last, "if that's not too trite -- I'm the last person who should be giving inspirational speeches -- what are you--?"

This time, it was she who was surprised by a kiss, although she responded at once, raising herself on her elbows to meet his mouth.

"I'm taking my chances," he said, his hands on her hips. "Is that what you meant?"

"Not precisely," she shrugged off the Sash of Rassilon and threw it carelesly aside, "but I've no complaints."

She moved to straddle his lap, kissing his lips while her hands explored the back of his neck. For a second, her mind touched his, and in the fleeting moments before she sealed herself off, he realised she'd done this before, with him, an older him -- he was exploring, while she merely refamiliarised herself with what she already knew.

"When?" he asked, whispering it in her ear as he left a leisurely trail of kisses down the side of her neck and along her collarbone, while he fondled a nipple through the thin fabric of her dress.

"You know I can't tell you," she said. "Yes, that's quite -- no, a little harder, please--"

She made no protest as he pushed her back to the ground, pulling her dress aside to bare a breast.

"The laws of time travel," he said, reaching between her legs, "are quite explicit--"

"I don't give a damn about the laws," she snapped. She was wet, and he pushed her skirt up, slipping his fingers inside.

"You sound like Koschei," he said, amused. She gave him a cold look and sat up, reaching for his hand. For a second he thought she was going to walk away, but instead she brought his fingers to her lips, licking her juices as his own arousal became unbearable.

"Please," he said.

She kissed him, and she tasted like sex. He was almost quivering with need as she undressed him. The cool air raised goosebumps on his suddenly-bare skin, but he was warm where she touched him. He pulled her into his lap, entering her without gentleness, but she was smiling, her gaze distant as she moved against him.

"There's a world," she said, "where the night sky is so bright with stars and moons that there's no need for artificial light -- and the air is warm and smells of saltwater and alien plants -- you'll take me there one day -- you'll tell ridiculous jokes and I'll refuse to laugh, because that would only encourage you--" She shifted, wrapping her legs around his waist, her hands tangling in his hair. "Oh," she moaned, and whatever else she was going to say was lost.

He pulled her tight against him as he reached climax, closing his eyes as words and conscious thought were replaced by pleasure.

Afterwards, he explored her body with light, teasing strokes, from her small breasts to her soft belly, to the musky wetness between her legs. She was unself-conscious and willing, taking her pleasure with eyes open, and her fingernails broke his skin as she succumbed.

They slept a little as the suns set, but he couldn't rest for long. He stayed still as he woke, feeling her curled against him. Her hearts-beat increased as she dreamed; whatever she had left behind to be with him, he didn't think it was pleasant. It occurred to him that she was defenceless; now was the time to explore her mind. Koschei or Ushas wouldn't have hesitated -- maybe he was as slow as his tutors had always insinuated -- but he remained still, and left her to her sleep.

"What am I to you?"

The first sun was rising as he finally gave voice to the question that had been on his mind for hours.

She looked away.

"I must mean something to you," he added, "else you -- a president of Gallifrey -- wouldn't risk your office to be with me."

She was reaching for her clothes, pulling her dress over her head and raking her hair out of her eyes. He picked up the Sash of Rassilon, letting the fabric and micro-circuitry slip through his fingers as he put it over her head.

"I love you," she said at last. "I love you, and you're dead. There's a war -- you died right in front of my eyes, it was the last thing I saw before I regenerated. And without you," her voice cracked, "the rest of Gallifrey -- the universe -- might as well give up. That's what you are to me, Doctor. A last hope."

She kissed him one more time, then walked away, back to her TARDIS. She closed the door without looking back.

He closed his eyes as she dematerialised.

This time, he made a conscious effort to forget her. Not even the Celestial Intervention Agency -- he asked Koschei to make discreet inquiries on his behalf -- had any knowledge of a TARDIS on that dead world. And he didn't care to share the reasons for his questions, not even with his oldest friend. Marriage was satisfying; fatherhood more so. He pushed the memories to the back of his mind and concentrated on the moments at hand.

Perhaps he should have known it wouldn't last.

He of all people should have been aware that a son might not live up to his father's expectations -- how often had his own genetic progenitors threatened to disown him? But his crimes had been sins of omission: duties ignored, ambitions left unfulfilled. He had known when to stop, or thought he did.

Exile. Renegade. The words were bitter on this tongue, and they had spread around the Citadel attached to other rumours, of crimes against the laws of time, tainted gene banks, eccentricity runs in the family, you know, they say the father ran screaming from the Untempered Schism--

"Can't you stop them?" he asked Koschei.

His old friend smiled. "Certainly," he said. "What would you like the people of Gallifrey to think about instead?"

And, of course, he had no answer.

It was Koschei who brought the news of his son's death -- an ignominous end for such a promising Time Lord, a war on some class five planet, a meaningless end in a muddy, disease-ridden field.

There was, Koschei said, no possibility of regeneration.

"Of course not," his wife said later, "it was a CIA assassination, anyone could see that."

He hadn't seen that, and she knew it, and she was long gone before he could admit she was right, and Koschei, too, was gone before he could say a word.

He was almost four hundred years old, and though once the universe had seemed unbearably terrifying, nowadays it was nothing compared to the oppression of Gallifrey.

He wasn't surprised when he saw her again.

This time, she appeared in his House, looking as awkard as a suitor come to call on a freshly graduated Time Lord. She perched on the edge of a couch, smoothing her dress over her knees. She'd left the Sash of Rassilon behind, this time.

"It's strange," she said, "but having arrived at my destination, I find myself quite -- lost."

"You look well," he said, pointlessly.

"You look older."

"I feel older," he said. "Did you -- do you know about my son?"

"I've read the archives. You ... never tell me anything." Her gaze was caught by something behind him. The Doctor followed her gaze.

"Ah," he said. "My granddaughter, Susan." He held out his hand, urging the child forward. "She'll go away to the Academy next year--" To stare into the Schism, poor child, letting all of reality open before her -- if only there was another way -- if only he had the courage--

She greeted Susan with all the solemnity of a minor bureaucrat meeting a member of the Supreme Council. "What an unusual name," she said.

"It's Human," the Doctor said, "from Sol 3, that is -- my son was -- very interested--"

"I see."

"Her mother is -- well, there was a scandal."

"A Time Lord's greatest fear," she said, with all the sourness he felt.

"Precisely."

She stood up, moving to the window to look out over the Citadel. "It's so peaceful," she said, "stagnant, of course -- dying, in fact. But at least it's a slow death. I'm afraid I could never be quite sure -- have you made the decision to leave yet?"

He froze, clinging to Susan's hand as if he were the child.

"I--"

"Or have I just put the idea in your head, tangling my paradox further?"

"No," he said, slowly, "only -- to say it out loud--"

"It's quite liberating," she agreed.

He released Susan's hand. "Go back to your books, child," he ordered, and although she plainly wanted to stay, she was accustomed to obey. When she was out of earshot, he joined the President at the window. "You haven't come back to make me stay," he said.

"Of course not. History would tear itself apart."

"Then what--"

She turned to face him. "The President of Gallifrey has access to certain ancient tools -- weapons, if you like," she said, speaking in a low, urgent voice, "in any era, the vaults will recognise the Presidential Imprimatur. When you leave, I want you to take the Hand of Omega."

He laughed in her face.

"And do what with it?" he demanded. "You're utterly mad -- it's beyond reason--"

She raised her hand, showing him the ring she wore, with the Seal of Rassilon engraved into the metal. "I am a President of Gallifrey," she said, "the last President, if we cannot -- if you don't -- please, Doctor, you've seen me since you were a child, if you can't trust me--"

"What do you want me to do with the Hand?" he asked, seriously this time.

"Just -- put it in a safe place," she said, "and let it sit until you need it." She took his hands in hers. "That's all I can tell you now."

When he was a child, she'd seemed terribly old, but now he realised she was no more than a few centuries his senior in relative years. Terribly young to be the ruler of all Gallifrey, burdened with the guardianship of a civilisation in a time of war.

"We'll meet again," he said thoughtfully, "in my relative future, your past."

"Yes," she said.

"Will I know you?"

"I don't think so," she said. "I was so young when we met -- and you'll never see this face. Either you live and I don't regenerate, or you'll die before I've changed."

He cupped her face in his hands. "I still don't know your name," he said.

"Doctor..."

He kissed her, slowly.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Why," he kissed her again, putting his hand on her hip to draw her closer, "I'm taking my chances, just as you're going to tell me to do."

"My paradox," she whispered, "grows more tangled by the minute."

But she didn't pull away, and made no protest when he took her hand to lead her to his bedroom. He closed the heavy doors behind them, and went to draw the curtains.

"Stop," she said. He turned; she was kneeling on his bed, face turned up to the suns. "It's not like this anymore," she said, closing her eyes, "I'd forgotten how beautiful Gallifrey could be." She slipped off her shoes and pulled her dress over her head. She was naked beneath, pushing her hair out of her face and reaching for him.

This was, he realised, her first time with him -- with this first incarnation, he corrected himself -- this was not what time travel had been created for -- he knelt behind her and kissed her neck and ears while his hands stroked her nipples and belly and the curve of her waist, until she made a strangled noise and guided his hand between her legs. He shifted, entering her slowly and let the rhythm of his thrusts match that of his fingers against her clitoris. The orange light of Gallifrey's suns cast tan and gold shadows over his bedroom, over their skin.

They moved when the light became blinding, separating long enough to rearrange themselves, she on her back, hands braced against the bedhead. He kissed her hard, letting his teeth brush against her lips with increasing force, until her mouth was swollen. He was suddenly unaccountably melancholy. The last time he'd done this, he'd been with his wife, and there had been some measure of hope in his world.

"Do you have children?" he asked, pushing her firmly against the mattress.

"What a time to ask," she said. "No. Not any more."

"Don't. The disappointment -- don't have children." He was close -- so close -- he withdrew, releasing his spendings over her stomach with a cry. His cheeks were wet, he realised; she was sitting up to wipe his tears away, and for a second, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her arms and let the world -- all the worlds -- fall apart.

But only for a second. He had responsibilities -- Susan needed him -- the one duty from which he could never walk away. He relaxed, slowly, calming himself, letting the storm pass. She was pulling the blankets around them, creating a cocoon of safety. A temporary illusion, to be sure, but all they could afford.

"A year," he told her, "give me a year -- we'll leave Gallifrey before she goes to the Academy. I won't let them take my granddaughter."

A year of plans and preparations, and endlessly smiling as he maintained his facade.

For once in his life, the time seemed to fly.

When he saw her again, she was clad in the full presidential regalia, looking faintly absurd.

"Susan?" she asked.

"Waiting in the TARDIS," he said, "it's an old one -- in for repairs, I'm afraid, and quite archaic, but it will do, it will do."

He let her lead him into the vaults beneath the Panopticon. There were no guards, no security systems but the archaic technology that dated back to Rassilon's age. She held his hand as they made their way through the darkness. They did not speak.

The Hand of Omega was kept in a chamber in the very centre of the vaults. It hummed with energy; he had the impression it was almost waiting for them.

"Now," she said, pressing her hand against its case, "place your hand here," he did so, and there was a wave of heat beneath his palm. "Now it will obey you," she said, "and no one else, unless you say."

They left as quickly as they had come, and the weapon followed in their wake.

"Can you come with us?" he asked as they approached the TARDIS.

For a few moments, she looked tempted, then she shook her head.

"I still have work to do," she said, kissing him swiftly. "You'll see me one more time, I hope."

It was less than a decade -- a decade in which he felt he'd lived more than in the nearly four hundred years that preceded it. So many worlds, people, creatures -- he left Susan behind, to make a new life on a ravaged Earth, and took Barbara and Ian away to a peaceful, empty world.

She was waiting for him.

She sat in the doorway of the TARDIS that he now recognised as his own -- claimed, he guessed, in the wake of his death. She was wearing black again, and looked paler, older than he remembered. She stood as he approached, and greeted him with a kiss.

"Skaro," she said without preamble. "If you use the Hand to destroy Skaro, you'll weaken the Dalek forces just enough -- the war is inevitable, but the Matrix places high probability on your survival."

He held her tightly, thinking about what she asked.

"You want me to destroy an entire world," he said.

"You've seen the Daleks." She pulled away, but didn't let go of his hand. "You'll know when the time comes -- you'll know. I trust you."

"I must ask," he said, "are you doing this to save Gallifrey -- or me?"

She smiled. There were tears in her eyes. "I don't have the luxury of acting on personal impulse."

"Then--"

"But I love you." She looked defiant. "The timeline that created me will cease to exist, but I've entered a stable loop -- you might say it's my last act as this incarnation of myself. You'll live, and I'll ... exist. Forever cycling through your early life."

"Will you be aware?"

"Oh, Doctor," she said, "I've done this so many times already."

She kissed him again, not releasing him until they heard Barbara and Ian's voices in the distance.

"I should go," she said.

"Is there--"

"It's a stable loop, Doctor," she said with a touch of impatience. "I'll exist in the main timeline, with my linear relative life. Never knowing what might have happened. And Gallifrey will survive to win the war, and you'll survive -- and that's all I ask, really."

She stepped back, retreating inside her TARDIS, closing the door.

He watched until it was gone, then turned to find Barbara and Ian, and the rest of his lives.

end

Never has this icon been more appropriate

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 18:33:10 GMT

I had a very detailed dream last night. It was about Romana's Eventual Season-Finale Return (tm). Yes, I know.

Anyway, I don't remember most of it, but here's a transcription of the final scene in case I ever need to use it (I sort of hope I will, actually, for obvious reasons).

( Read more... )

new fic post

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 21:16:53 GMT

Title: A Time of Grace
Fandom: Doctor Who
Timeline: New and Old Who both. ;)
Characters: Romana-centric, with Doctors Nine and Ten, and a whooole lot of familiar faces.

Summary: Romana returns, but an old enemy reappears as well. To protect what's left of Gallifrey, she travels time and space searching for a chance for the future and a way to escape the past.

Warnings: Moderately graphic sex, some strong language, discussion of domestic abuse, some violence, and spoilers through end of Season 3. Technically canon-compliant in almost every way, but definitely AU in the broader sense.

Notes</b>: Many thanks to MayMargaret, Narsilion, and SnakeWhisperer for beta-reading at various points in the process, to the people of dw_britglish, and all who commented favorably on the standalone "tester" of Chapter 1 posted many months ago. And HUGE thanks to Boxed and Meztlimoon for an absolutely awesome illustration and a trailer that made me giddy as a shivering giddy thing. You guys rock!

A Time of Grace

Time War & Eight/Romana fanmix

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 01:10:14 GMT

Recently, I set about making a Time War fanmix. It was more or less intended as gen, but wartime!Eight/Romana is so ingrained in my personal fanon that the fanmix took a decided turn for the shippy angst -- enough so that it seemed worth posting here! Basically, tracks 5-8 fall in that category. And then the subject of track 10 kind of drifts in my mind back and forth between Romana and Susan. The song list and download link are here if you're interested.

ETA: The link is fixed -- no longer leads to my locked "draft" post. Sorry about that!

8th Doctor/Romana II fanart

Fri, 06 Jun 2008 13:30:27 GMT

http://community.livejournal.com/500year_diary/352077.html
awesome 8/Romana II fanart. the person should draw more. ^.^

On Heat

Wed, 04 Jun 2008 22:44:48 GMT

Title: On heat (1/?)
Genre: Drama, Smut
Rating: Nc-17
Characters/Pairings: Four/Romana II
Summary: All Gallifreyan females have a period of Estrus, Romana's time comes during the her stay on the TARDIS

Romanadvoratelundar was a late bloomer. She knew that all Gallifreyan females had a period of Estrus when the libido dominated all else, desire heightened to insane levels, and lack of intercourse became painful. But she always thought that she would be prepared. On Gallifrey there were places a woman could go and pills to lessen it. All females went through it, from the lowliest Shobgan to the Highest Timelady. It was awful, a vestigial remnant from a more savage time.

Romana was happy she hadn’t gone into Estrus. Growing up, she’d heard horror stories about pelvic congestion so bad it was hard to walk, sex with men you’d ordinarily never look twice at, unplanned pregnancies, even incest….

It all started one day when she was watching the Doctor play fetch with K-9 and she realized he wasn’t so bad looking after all. Then he turned and smiled at her, just an ordinary smile, and she felt herself tingle, a very definite tingling in her pelvic region. And she knew it was starting.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him or his body, which she hadn’t really considered before. He was so tall and his eyes were so blue. She found her hands straying downward to try to rub it out, but nothing worked.

By day three all she could think about was him taking her. It didn’t matter where or how or what orifice. She hated these thoughts but they kept coming back, and the insistent tingling had become awful. She was swollen and beginning to hurt. Maybe if she waited a few more days, kept to her room, let it blow over, maybe slept, it would pass. But she was hurting, dripping, soaking… It was embarrassing.

Finally she woke one day after a night of dreaming about being ravished by the Doctor’s scarf, which turned into K-9. Her body ached, making it painful to stand. She knew the Doctor could smell her. Any male Gallifreyan could smell a female when she was on heat. Then why was he acting so normal? Why wasn’t he in here, ministering to her needs? She stood up and despite the swollenness, despite the pelvic congestion, she managed to dress and walk out of her room.

He was in the console room, fiddling with the controls and chatting merrily to K-9 when she entered. She blinked away a thought about ravishing the Doctor right there, while K-9 watched. She had to be dignified about this. He raised his head and looked her calmly with those blue eyes of his. He could smell her; she could see his nostrils dilate as he took in her scent. She felt herself tremble.

“Romana? Are you quite all right?” the Doctor asked.

“K-9?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress?” said the robotic dog.

“Please leave the room,” she ordered.

“Affirmative,” K-9 said and rolled away.

They were alone now.

“Doctor, I want you to take me,” she said as calmly as she could.

“Take you where, Romana?” he asked with a smile.

“Doctor, this is no time to be facetious,” she said.

“I wasn’t. I meant which room would you like me to take you in? The TARDIS has quite a lot of them, you know,” he said, striding over to her and putting his arms on her slender shoulders. He bent down and kissed her forehead, her nose, and her lips.

She gasped at the sensation and leant into him. “One with a bed would be preferable, but at this point, I really don’t care,” Romana said.

The Doctor laughed. ”Your room or mine?”

Her nether regions gave a twinge. “I don’t care. Just get me there very quickly.”

He took in her scent and his eyes bugled. “Yes, I rather think this does need to happen rather fast. You're about ready to burst.”

“If you knew about my condition, why didn’t do anything before?” Romana asked.

“Ah, I was waiting for you to ask,” he said.

Biology (Ten/Romana II, NC-17 PWP)

Sat, 31 May 2008 07:38:57 GMT

Title: Biology
Summary: The Doctor and Romana succumb to a primitive biological urge.
Rated: NC-17
Notes: Written for the kinkmeme at sizeofthatthing. 600 words of fairly pointless smut.

Biology
by LizBee

The problem with being the last two members of a species was that, however much one might argue against the irrational urge to rebuild the civilisation from scratch, the raw forces of biology had their own say in the matter. It was probably evolutionary. So it was only slightly out of the ordinary when Romana, in the middle of a long and quite tedious alien opera, leaned over to the Doctor and whispered, "My knickers are wet."

"Is this really the--"

Romana shifted in her seat, so that she was leaning over him a little. Not coincidentally, she was also giving him a rather brilliant view of her cleavage, assisted by the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Four hours until intermission," she whispered, "and I swear, if you don't take me out and fuck me--"

They were speaking Low Gallifreyan, but their fellow audience-members were still becoming restive. The Doctor seized Romana by the wrist and led her out, his other hand on her hip, but as they walked, it trailed across her leg, brushing, as if by accident, against her clit. Even through the fabric of her dress and knickers, he could tell she was wet and swollen.

"Didn't care for it anyway," he said as they left the theatre, "all that wailing and moaning and most of atonal, might as well go to a punk concert -- let's go to London, 1980, you can wear leather--"

"And you can fuck me right now," Romana breathed, kissing him hard and leading him into a curtained alcove that the local members of state used for political assignations and clandestine meetings.

"Right, yes, that too," the Doctor agreed, pushing her up against the wall and holding her in place as he licked her nipples through her dress. She moved to wrap her legs around him, but he didn't let her; with one hand he pinned her arms over her head, while with the other he pulled her dress up and slipped his hand inside her knickers. She was as wet as promised, and he felt her hearts race as he touched her clit.

"Please," she said, wrestling one hand free and undoing his trousers. He let her go, and she stumbled, landing on her knees before him, taking his swollen cock in her mouth. The Doctor's universe contracted, and he was aware of nothing but their bodies, and he was sorry he'd teased her, because now she was taking her revenge, sucking and kissing, building up a rhythm then stopping, while her nails dug into his hips, drawing blood.

"I -- Romana--"

She pulled, laughing, and he came on her chest, sticky rivulets trickling between her breasts and staining her dress. He was on his knees, now, kissing her, licking his fluids from her body while his fingers entered her, and his thumb massaged her clitoris. Her hand was on his wrist, guiding him inwards, and she was moaning, little involuntary noises escaping her mouth while she pushed herself against his hand. He felt her orgasm, muscles contracting around his hand while she threw her head back and cried out.

He wiped his hand on the skirt of her dress, and she helped him do up his trousers. They didn't quite look at each other.

"Thank you," she said, as if they were at a Gallifreyan state dinner and he'd just handed her the salt.

"Pleasure," said the Doctor. He looked at her, hair a mess, mouth swollen, dress ruined. "You look--"

"Satisfied, I hope."

"Quite." He offered her his arm. "But seriously," he said, "these urges--"

"I am not repopulating the species with you, Doctor," said Romana, "no matter how -- compelling the biology becomes."

He looked hurt. "I was only going to say, you should think about 1980. Underground punk club, smoky, dark, crowded--"

Romana gave him a sidelong look. "Go on."

"And I know this girl," he drew her close to whisper in her ear, "who would eat you alive and have you begging for more."

Romana smiled. "Where did we leave the TARDIS?" she asked.

end

NuWho dream casting: My choice for Romana III ...

Thu, 29 May 2008 05:58:29 GMT

... Would not even be British, which I know will already make many of you bare your fangs at me for being a filthy American fan, but hear me out!

See, to my mind, it's a matter of selecting an actress who has already demonstrated her ability to play a character who possesses so many of Romana's most essential traits.

Yes, Romana is smart, but she's not just academically brilliant, she's also remarkably savvy at reading people, as a direct result of spending so much time dealing with a man who had no compunctions about being a compulsive liar.

Similarly, Romana can shift gears between seriously stern to almost playfully snarky in a matter of seconds, since her aforementioned companion was a manic-depressive whose mood swings likewise turned on a dime.

Romana is motivated by compassion for others, but she doesn't brook their bullshit, which is why her former partner didn't get away with manipulating or dismissing her. Like that fellow, she's also compelled by a curious seeker's need to know, but unlike him, she's much better at prioritizing and maintaining her focus on more practical and immediate matters at hand.

Most importantly, even though Romana let herself fall in love with a callously antisocial, egomaniacally narcissistic genius of a doctor, she demanded that he treat her as an equal.

Remind any of you of anyone ... ?

Next season on House: Cuddy opens a mysterious fob-watch she's somehow never noticed before, and all hell breaks loose. :)

fic Four/Romana II

Tue, 27 May 2008 11:00:09 GMT

Title: Blood From A Very Tall Stone
Pairing/Rating/Whatever: PG most likely. Doctor/Romana, Romana/Duggan, Doctor/Doctor's Ego.
Summary: Romana picked up a bit of rough in Paris. The Doctor is... well, he wouldn't say jealous...

The Doctor was staring at the console with a metaphorical 'Do Not Disturb' sign over his head. He occasionally flicked a switch and once he said "Ah!" in his usual expansive manner, but for the most part he just stood there, sulking.

Never one to heed signs, Romana distubed the Doctor by offering him tea, only to get scowled at. Bastard.

She set his tea down on the floor next to K-9 and sipped her own calmly. "Have you lost your yo-yo again? Have you looked behind the sofa in that cupboard full of unassembled tables from IKEA?"

The Doctor made a non-committal noise and casually kicked K-9 in the side. The dog backed away from him, antennae twitching sadly.

"Is it your marbles?"

"No!"

Well, at least it was an actual word.

"Is it about Duggan?" It was usually an ego thing when the Doctor went into one of these silences. Once she had beaten him at chess in five moves and he hadn't spoken to her for three days. "You haven't picked up monogamy from the Humans, have you?" Romana gave the Doctor a concerned look. "I had no idea it was catching."

"Of course not!" The Doctor shoved a hand into his hair and shook the curls in annoyance.

"Then why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset!"

"You kicked our dog."

"It was our holiday!" he said, with a tone that begged for a protracted argument.

"And I had a lovely time. Are you sulking because I didn't pay enough attention to you?" Romana had done some research on the Doctor before meeting him, which amounted to meeting Leela for about five minutes shortly before leaving Gallifrey. So she knew about his capacity for epic sulks and that if anything happened to the Doctor, Leela was going to cut her hearts out and make her eat them. Charming woman, very impressive thighs.

"You almost destroyed Paris! Do you really think I would sulk about your torrid dalliances with a Human rather than something like that? Hmm? What sort of a man do you think I am?"

"A tall man with a very large sense of his own importance?"

The Doctor nodded. "I can't help being important, it's just the way I am. People adore me. It must be my winning smile and my dazzling wit."

"When you were born they threw away the mold."

"It wasn't really mould. More of a benign fungal decoration."

"Anyone who says otherwise is just spreading scurrilous rumours."

"Exactly. Now, why would I, of all people, be jealous of a mere Human, eh? I know how wonderful I am, I don't need people to tell me." He paused significantly.

Romana wasn't in the mood to stroke his ego, but K-9 had a good sense of self-preservation. "The Doctor-Master is wonderful," he chirped.

"See? Even K-9 agrees. I hardly altered his programming at all in that regard, did I, K-9?"

K-9 stayed wisely silent.

Romana cut right to the point. "It's not that I mind you picking up bizarre Human romantic practices. I enjoyed the handcuffs, didn't I? But, really, sexual jealousy? That's unbecoming for a Time Lord. You'd be the talk of the Panopticon if you weren't already."

The Doctor made a noise of disapproval and general sulkiness.

"Besides, did I say anything about that green belly-dancer from Anuerin VII? Or that young man with the nice hat?" She had a horrible thought. "You're not operating on a double-standard, are you? I can cope with your occasional bouts of mild sexism but that really would be a straw too far on a small camel."

"I do not have occasional bouts of mild sexism! I admire women! I might even decide to be one next regeneration."

Romana touched his arm sympathetically. "You can't help it, you're a product of your times."

The Doctor shook her hand away. "Don't judge me! You're the one who regenerated because Arcadian Vogue said dark hair wasn't in this season. If that isn't bowing to the patriarchy then I don't know what is." He scowled at her. "I liked that body. It looked good on you. It had a certain dignity, a certain je ne sais quoi."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know what."

Romana nodded. "You can't be expected to know everything." She drew herself up to her full height. "I'm not going to apologise."

"Did I say I wanted you to? Stop assuming things. I don't have jealous bone in my body."

"It's not a bone I was thinking of."

The Doctor leaned on the console and stared at her. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a filthy mind?"

"Yes, you said as much when I first thought of that trick with your scarf."

"That wasn't filthy, that was just inventive."

"I'd like you to say sorry."

"For the scarf?"

"For your petty display of envy and irrational anxiety."

"Alright." The Doctor flicked some switches on the console. Romana waited.

"Go on then."

He frowned at her. "Pardon?"

"Say it. Say you're sorry."

"I did."

"You didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"K-9?"

K-9 waggled his ears in mild fear. "The master did not apologise to the mistress."

The Doctor glared at the dog. "Traitor. Don't expect me to grease your axles anytime soon."

"Say sorry."

"It's not in my vocabulary. I know there's a future me who says it so often it becomes meaningless, but I've never liked him. And his companion slapped me for looking at her."

"If you don't I'll..." she thought for a moment. "If you don't then I'll take K-9 and run off to another universe."

The Doctor had a horrid sense of something being foreshadowed. He shook it off, his hair flying about a bit as it tended to do when he moved. "You wouldn't do that. You'd miss our conversations."

"I'd have K-9 to talk to."

The Doctor rubbed the side of his nose. "Alright, I'm sorry you're upset."

"That's a fauxpology, I don't accept it."

"It was sincere!"

"I want you to apologise for your own childish behaviour."

The Doctor shook slightly. He couldn't, he just couldn't. It would mean admitting both defeat and the fact that he might theoretically have flaws of some sort. There had to be some way he could save face. Ah-ha! "K-9, apologise to Romana."

"Negative, Master."

That dog was scrap and he knew it.

"Have you caught monogamy? There's no shame in it, it can be treated quite easily these days."

"Don't be absurd!"

"It can. There are pills for it. Medicine does advance, you know."

"You apologise first."

"For what?"

"For... oh, I don't know. Make something up."

"I'm sorry you're such an idiot."

He'd never had this trouble with Sarah Jane. She understood him. And she didn't run off with unattractive men. Apart from Harry, but he scarely counted.

"Do you want to move Duggan into the TARDIS?"

"Hardly."

The Doctor was pleased. "I knew you had good taste in men."

"Better than yours."

That wasn't fair. "I didn't know he was a Conservative."

"You told me they had tails and horns."

"A mild exaggeration on my part, I admit."

"I quite liked Amelia Rumford."

"Ah, now she's much more your type. I wouldn't object to you bringing her on board. I've always thought there's something marvellous about lesbians of a certain age. A dignity, a confidence."

"And you still haven't said sorry."

"Don't you realise that this is very difficult for me? Not that I have anything to apologise for, but if I did it would be extremely difficult to say the word in question."

"Why?"

"An allergy."

"I find that very unlikely." Romana sighed. "Sometimes I rather dislike you."

"I dislike you sometimes as well, it's a sign of a healthy relationship. I think rather unkind things about you when you steal all the blankets."

"You've never said anything."

The Doctor tried to run a hand through his hair but it got stuck and he had to pull it out feeling stupid. "I didn't want to make you feel unhappy."

"I'm sorry."

"Then I'm sorry as well. There. I said it. You can gloat now."

"I don't want to gloat."

"Your face is gloating."

"That's just the air-conditioning."

"Hmph."

And so, relationship saved, they travelled on into time and space. K-9 was not taken to pieces by an angry Doctor, and Romana kissed a very handsome young man on the next planet with hardly any sulking from the Doctor afterwards.

TEH END.

Used to You: A Fourth Doctor/Romana I Fanmix

Mon, 26 May 2008 17:20:25 GMT

I. Arctic Monkeys - Perhaps Vampires is a Bit Strong But... (mp3)

I've seen your eyes as they fix on me full of confusion
your snarl is just so condescending Lyrics

II. AniDiFranco - Used to You (mp3)

I'm still here because
I've got nothing else to do
you're an asshole
but I'm getting used to you
I like the fact that
you talk incessantly
I got a thing for assholes
who tell good stories Lyrics

III. Death Cab for Cutie - Crooked Teeth (m4a)

And I knew I'd made horrible call,
And now the state line felt like the Berlin wall,
And there was no doubt about which side I was on. Lyrics

IV. Magneta Lane - Secrets Aren't So Bad (mp3)

I want to tell you everything
I want to tell you everything
But if I tell you everything
What I can build won't mean a thing Lyrics

V. Barenaked Ladies - A (mp3)

A is for arrogance; emotional shield
A is for acting, A is for abhorrently
A is for asshole, which is what I am, how rude of me.
I owe you an apology I'm sorry Lyrics

VI. The Cardigans - I Need Some Fine Wine, and you, You Need to Be Nicer (mp3)

Well it's been a long slow collision,
I'm a pitbull, you're a dog,
Baby you're foul in clear conditions
But you're handsome in the fog
Lyrics

VII. Death Cab for Cutie - Lightness (mp3)

Your heart is a river that flows from your chest
Through every organ
Your brain is the dam
And I am the fish who can't reach the core. Lyrics

VIII. Fiona Apple - Red Red Red (mp3)

And it's dangerous work
Trying to get to you too
And I think if I didn't have to
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill myself doing it
Maybe I wouldn't think so much of you
Lyrics

IX. The Beatles - Dear Prudence (m4a)

The clouds will be a daisy chain
So let me see you smile again
Dear Prudence, won't you let me see you smile? Lyrics

X. Jenny Owen Youngs - Fuck Was I (mp3)

Love grows in me like a tumor,
parasites bent on devouring its host.
I'm developing my sense of humor,
till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth,
till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet. Lyrics

XI. The Decemberists - Oceanside (mp3)

At rising tide, you're looking fresher than a July bride
We're picking up what our mothers always stigmatized
The field is right for reaping
Lyrics

XII. Regina Spektor - Bon Idée (mp3)

Don't tell your secrets to anyone
Because ideas are vulnerable
As soon as you say your idea out loud
Then it can go and live on its own Lyrics

XIII. Damien Rice - Me, My Yoke and I (m4a)

My fall, my fall
My fall gonna break ya
My fall, my fall
My fall gonna break your wall Lyrics

XIV. Bjork - Pluto (mp3)

Excuse me
But I just have to
Explode
Explode this body
Off me
Lyrics

XV. Architecture in Helsinki (m4a)

And honey, there's no hurry,
I know it's overdue there's a key to the door,
To the room where I'm staying,
You can sleep on the floor,
Half way through the night can we talk and see?
'Cause there's no way that I'll sleep when you're near me
Lyrics

Zip.file with all songs

X-posted to greenbubblewrap, loves_them_all, romanafen, who_otp and my own journal.

4th Doctor & Romana II - in comic book form

Mon, 19 May 2008 20:26:45 GMT

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=71VPRF3R

The 4th Doctor & the 2nd Romana, in comic book form!
Drawn by the well known comic book artist Walter Simonson. :)

Fic: Holidays in the TARDIS: Whitsunday

Fri, 16 May 2008 19:46:00 GMT

Index post for the series.

Title: Holidays in the TARDIS: Whitsunday

Summary: St Peter says that nine in the morning is way too early to be drunk (Acts 2.15). The Doctor and Romana…not so much.

Rated: PG.

Word count: 591.

Characters: Fourth Doctor, Romana II, Martha Jones.

Setting: For the Doctor and Romana, between The Horns of Nimon and Shada. For Martha, after Season 30/4.

Spoilers: Martha’s personal life.

Warnings: Timey-wimey things.

Notes: It’s Pentecost. There are baptisms and weddings. Ergo…

( ‘Doctor,’ hissed Romana. ‘We don’t even know these people and it’s nine in the morning. Why are we here?’ )

Fic: Hanami

Tue, 13 May 2008 01:36:38 GMT

Title: Hanami

Summary: Dead bodies are buried under the cherry trees!

Rated: PG.

Word count: 601.
Characters: Four, Romana II, Ten.

Setting: Between The Horns of Nimon and Shada; between The Doctor's Daughter and The Unicorn and the Wasp.

Spoilers: None.

Warnings: Gratuitous angsty-type things at the end.

Notes: This could be construed as a Holidays in the TARDIS fic, but really I’m just doing it because paapaagena made me, and because the thought of Doctor/Romana+falling sakura blossoms=too shippy for words.

( Hanami )

Holidays in the TARDIS: May Day

Mon, 12 May 2008 04:59:55 GMT

Index post for the series.

Title: Holidays in the TARDIS: May Day

Summary: Red sash, blue sash, revel together, red jacket, blue cap, snow-owl’s feather…

Rated: G.

Word count: 418.

Characters: Fourth Doctor, Romana II.

Setting: Between The Horns of Nimon and Shada.

Spoilers: None.

Warnings: Overly obscure references to Cornish Maytime traditions and ancient fertility cults.
Notes: Yes, I KNOW it's really late. The Whitsun one is late, too, actually. I'll have it up within the week. Give me a break.

( Romanadvoratrelundar viewed the dancers with detached amusement. )

fic: anomalous readings

Sun, 11 May 2008 01:33:56 GMT

Title: Anomalous Readings
Rating: G.
Characters/Pairings: Jenny, Romana
Spoilers: For The Doctor's Daughter, obv.

Summary: Jenny stumbles into a TARDIS that doesn't belong to her father.

anomalous readings

Sat, 10 May 2008 21:42:53 GMT

23 Four & Romana I icons

Over here with other Classic Who icons. ^_^